Friday, July 18, 2008

Here we have a trio of mantra flares that leisurely burn into your consciousness like a Coil 'Time Machines' excursion. The way these creeping sounds evolve beyond ambience is really trippy, especially the unexpected (meta) physical blooms they produce...

Kaleidoscopic Filmstrip Blues is a gentle thawing of sounds, to which the scenery is subtly shifted along. A journey where layers of macrocosmic detail are gradually stitched together to produce a hypnotic whole, stretched patterns endlessly forming and breaking up – steeped in a melancholy exhalation of accordion.

One Hundred Years starts as guitar conversation, each stroke falling leisurely out of sync with the other, pulled out of focus into slow-mo fireworks dropping from the skies. Slow organisms reach from within the sun bled blackness, a sleeping sickness enveloped procession eaten away by humming mandibles. Cries affix towards the sky, dribble down the walls and pool at the feet of a body slumped dead over the keyboard. Everything is drowned to a mono-tinted drone, punctured by a sparse piano key requiem that signifies the death of this track and the birth of the last.

On Afterimages keyboards are rebounded, mirrored, their boundaries nicely blurred, then gradually covered in a cloud of harmonium drone offset by some insect ambience... Everything gets heavier, as each developing layer combines with the next, the spaces between them contract as the sound expands, surging off noisily. The undercuts tilting in other directions, jostling, the depth of sound is incredible with the repetition of the prominent foreground balanced by the semi–opaque kinetics of the stuff underneath... mind mushrooms to saviour.